Page 47 of Dead Man's List
“Last week the three of them made dinner,” she went on. “Gave Mom ‘the night off.’ The kitchen was a disaster, but they cleaned it up without complaining. Mom felt like a queen.”
It made Kit feel guilty that she’d never offered to cook dinner for the family. Then again, she loved them too much to poison them with her awful cooking.
“She should,” Connor said softly. “Harlan and Betsy change lives. Look, if you want to close your eyes, I’ll wake you up when we get to your car.”
She must have looked as tired as she felt. “Maybe I will. Just for a minute.”
Chapter Six
Carmel Valley, San Diego, California
Sunday, January 8, 10:20 p.m.
“More pie, Sam?”
Betsy McKittrick didn’t wait for his answer. A plate with a second generous slice of apple pie appeared before him, along with a pat on his shoulder.
After leaving Kit at the mall, he’d arrived at the Shady Oaks Retirement Village only to find Miss Georgia and Miss Eloise all dolled up and waiting to be picked up by Harlan McKittrick, having been invited for family Sunday dinner. The ladies had insisted he come along and he’d been unable to say no.
He hadn’t really wanted to say no.
There was something so welcoming about McKittrick House. Entering the house was like being enveloped in the warmest of hugs.
And a fine evening it had been, too. Georgia and Eloise always blossomed around the McKittrick table. It had been onlytwo months since they’d lost two of their dear friends at Shady Oaks, and getting out really improved their mood.
“You must give me the recipe for this pie,” Eloise said.
Georgia sniffed. “Like you’d bake a pie.”
Eloise gasped, affronted. “I’m an excellent baker.”
Georgia shot her a pointed look. “Have you ever baked anything other than pot brownies?”
Eloise giggled, fluffing her blue hair. “Nope.”
Suppressing a groan, Sam glanced at Betsy, whose lips were twitching. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “They tend to forget where they are sometimes.”
Betsy patted his hand. “It’s fine, Sam. We’ve had far worse said at this table.”
Georgia harrumphed. “We donotforget where we are. At least I don’t.” She had the good grace to look embarrassed, though. “But I shouldn’t have said that in front of children.”
Tiffany scowled. “We’re not children.”
“We’re fifteen,” Emma added. “And Rita’s fourteen.”
Rita leaned forward. “Tell me more, Miss Eloise. Do you have a recipe?”
Eloise opened her mouth, then shut it with a snap, as if just realizing there were three impressionable teenagers hanging on her every word.
Rita laughed, the merry sound making Sam smile. The girl had been through so much, but she’d also blossomed since coming to live with the McKittricks.
Harlan just shook his head, sipping at his coffee. “Never a dull moment.” Then he stiffened, checking his phone. “The entry alarm just buzzed. There’s a car coming up the driveway.”
Harlan and Betsy had added security features, including brand-new cameras, to give Rita piece of mind. She was nervousabout the upcoming trial of her mother’s murderer, which Sam completely understood. The man was a vile monster with far more money than morals, and Rita had been the one to accuse him. That he’d sexually assaulted her as well—and that he remained unaccused of that crime—was more of an issue, Sam thought.
“Hmm.” Harlan pushed to his feet, a frown on his face. “I don’t recognize the car. Who could be dropping by at this time of night?”
Rita had gone pale, so Sam squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure it’s nothing for you to be worried about. We’ll just check it out.”
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